


The Book of Cyborg

by Pearly_Pornography



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Asphyxiation, Beating, Claustrophilia, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Emetophilia, Masochism, Other, POV Second Person, Past Rape/Non-con, Phase Four (Gorillaz), Robot Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Frustration, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 06:39:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8963575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Pornography/pseuds/Pearly_Pornography
Summary: Sequel to "Learning to Love"A sexually-frustrated Murdoc is stuck remembering something he really didn't want to.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Learning to Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6473965) by [Pearly_Pornography](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Pornography/pseuds/Pearly_Pornography). 



> I just realized a new Gorillaz album is coming soon so I wanted to celebrate
> 
> This one's just as fucked as the last one, though slightly more consensual. the sex doesnt last super long because i suck at writing sex but meh.

The ocean was vast and wild. And weird, weird things happen. Sometimes you get lost. Sometimes you discover a new species. Sometimes you write an album, go on a journey, and kidnap an old friend of yours. Sometimes you build a robotic version of your old guitarist under the impression that she's stone dead.

Sometimes, and only sometimes, does that robot gain a consciousness, beat the shit out of you, and butt-rape you on your own couch, all while you're piss-drunk.

It was a cloudy memory, faded by excessive booze, that you didn't have any interest in revisiting. To the point where you reprogrammed the cyborg, removed all of that useless data. You'd been on Plastic Beach for awhile and decided that, now as people had begun coming after you once more, it was time to leave. Good-bye, 2D. Good-bye, beach house. Good-bye, Plastic Beach. You'd almost missed the damn thing when it was out of sight. (Hey, you'd even put out the effort of painting it.)

It was a rare occasion for you to touch a woman the past couple years. Being on a remote island could do that to a person. The cyborg was equipped to deal with that kind of thing, and it worked out for awhile. You'd just shut her off, spread her legs and do your stuff. But after 'the incident' you just decided to stick with your hand, a box of tissues and a raunchy porno.

It wasn't like you'd never thought of taking a crack at Noodle. Otherwise you wouldn't have made such a functionality in her robot counterpart.

But being bludgeoned half-to death by that robot, and then fucked beyond all recognition until you swore your shitter was loose as the screws holding her damn brain together wasn't exactly ideal. So you figured giving her the satisfaction of having any kind of sex with you would just be buying into whatever her issue was. You figured you'd worked out the kinks and stuck to yourself, though occasionally taking in a young, fair, lady passerby just for a "quick visit".

The submarine was a different story.

No women could be invited into the submarine, no sir. Ignoring the fact that you were on the run from your own damn decisions, and being caught by a lady cop after trying to fuck her would be an awful way to go, the submarine was cramped and not ideal for much of anything.

You grunted, hand tightening around the controls. The wrist cramps from how much you'd been whacking off were fucking unbearable. Perhaps, you contemplated, you could try using your other hand. But then that one would just cramp up too. Christ, you were getting fucking old. The whole room smelled like rum and piss, definitely not ideal. Luckily, your only other passenger, the cyborg, wouldn't judge you for it. After all, her sense of smell was shoddy at best. 

You hadn't slept in days and decided to park the little machine in an inconspicuous area of the ocean where nobody would think to look. Hopefully, the old rustbucket would blend in with the waves somehow, and the planes and choppers flying by wouldn't notice your presence.

"Another rum."

The cyborg cocked her head, before pouring it into a glass. For once she did it right. With ice and everything.

"Here you go."

Thankfully she'd dropped any sort of nickname. No 'Papa', no 'Master', nothing. That shit was too damn weird, especially after what transpired between you. "Would you like me to drive the submarine for you?"

"Nah." You grunted, laying back in your chair. "Jus' leave it."

"Understood."

You stared at her as she shuffled to the other side of the one-room machine. There was hardly any space for the two of you in here. "It's been a long time since we were alone."

"Don't talk more than you need to."

She went quiet, staring at the wall. You sighed, staring back out the front window into the blue abyss. Then you stood. "Gonna take a piss." Opening the hatch wasn't an option, at least for now, so you just took another corner of the submarine, whipping it out and praying she wouldn't make eye contact.

She watched. Intently. Her eyes were boring into you as you tried your damn hardest to pay attention to your own business.

"It's still impressive." She grinned. "Your backside."

"Bugger me sideways, I thought I fuckin' fixed all that creepy bullshit." 

"This is just a part of who I am."

"You have no will, you're a fuckin' robot. Christ."

"I am more than a robot." Her smile grew wider. "I've been waiting for a time like this, Papa."

"Don't start that shit again." You tucked yourself back in without even wiping your dick clean.

"Why? You created me. You are my father and I love you very much." She lowered her head. "So I showed my love the same way you do. To all of those women, and my uncle. Was I doing it wrong? Was I not harsh enough on you?"

You sighed. You did program her to learn from her experiences. "You are ugly, but I think you are beautiful. Though you are a cold place, I want to be inside of you."

"Ugh, enough already!" You slugged back half the glass of rum in one go. "Stop talkin' about that shit. Enough. De-program. Fuckin'... stop."

"It's been over a month since you performed proper intercourse. In this tiny submarine..." She rocked on her heels, like a shy schoolgirl. She was repeating human motions and you fucking hated it more than anything. "And now you have carpal tunnel in your dominant hand. I can see it in the way you drive."

You felt like there was something lodged in your stupid throat.

"What the bloody 'ell are you gettin' at."

"No capability of relief. You must be dying out there."

"Get to th' point."

"I will when I want to."

Her tone was the same as back then. You backed against the wall, barely a meter between you two as she approached. "And now, here we are. You want to get your band back, and I know once you get in contact with the real Noodle I'll be done for, right?"

"Damn right you will be."

"I want to do it with you one more time before I go." She held her arms out to the walls, surrounding you. "For old time's sake."

"What'll you do if I say no?"

"I get what I want."

You were sober enough to recognize that it was an awful idea trying to fight her. She was powerful, and definitely willing to get her way. Instead you sighed, throwing your hands up as high as they would go towards the low ceiling. "I got you!" She poked you in the chest with one metal finger. "Good boy."

"I ain't your fuckin' dog." 

"Mmm..." She was already shoving her hands up your sweater, groping at all of that sweaty, oily flesh underneath. Her tongue wasn't wet, it was just cold, and it dragged across the line of your belly button. You attempted not to be aroused. Only two seconds in and you were losing fucking control. "I know all of your weak points. So I can protect you from others, and use them myself."

"Well isn't that just peachy."

"Ohh..." She gazed at your imminent yet uninvited erection sticking out beneath your pants. "When I see you so vulnerable like this..."

"Look, if you're gonna fuck me, just get on wit' it."

"You're no fun, you know."

"I didn't program you wit' a sense of fun."

"There are some things I gained on my own."

You grimaced. Dammit, what if 2D fucked with this machine while you weren't looking? He was no mechanic, he was just a fucking dullard. Allowing a moron like that to get anywhere near your machinery was a mistake to begin with. Her hand trailed down your sides, monotone laughter falling from her lips. "Ehehe..." Her fingers found their way to your pants, pulling them down to your ankles. Dammit, your submarine was fucking hot. "Your legs are sweating."

"Wha'ever."

"It's quite cramped and hot in here, isn't it? Though I can't really tell."

"Can't you just bloody hurry up?!"

"I thought foreplay was part of the job." She cocked her head. "...Unless you like it when I hurt you."

"Whatever makes you fucking sto--"

Her fist drove across your face. Hard. The metal clattered with your jawbones. A pain so shocking, your throat convulsed. A fluid that was vile, sick, splattering on the floor, then on your lower leg as the flow leveled out. Her fingers were covered in blood... And she was smiling.

"You're hard."

You looked down. Like a damn symbol of defeat, a fucking surrender flag, your dick was half-standing, half-hard, and fully betraying your wits. Damn it, damn it, now you wished you hadn't taken the oath that "getting off to pain is the most badass thing a guy can do".

"Yeh, it 'appens sometimes. Doesn't 'ave anythin' to do wit' this."

"You're a middle-aged man now. Accidental erections usually stop being a problem after... early adulthood at the latest." She was fucking mocking you, and if she wasn't so damn useful on her good days you'd kick her metal head to the floor. "Dictionaries are useful. I have one built in. They call people like you 'masochists'."

"Well you know wha' they call people like you? Bloody psychopaths!"

Her fist drove into your ribs. You expected it slightly more this time, but you still tasted old rum on your lips when it happened, and swallowed it back. 

"You're practically begging for me to do that."

You grunted in response, but she was already peeling out of her shorts before you could shoot back a retort. You admired your handiwork, for once not too drunk to do so. It was a simple concept, really, a sort of coil-esque mechanism with a hard base. It could be pushed inward and outward, and had a soft, squishy, fleshlike covering. It was useful both for penetrating and being penetrated. Initially you planned to use its second function for, perhaps, if 2D got a bit too uppity. (A terrible and fucked-up plan, yes, but it'd work if ever necessary.) Not to mention that its design allowed it to be very, very tight when you needed it.

And a deep dark part of you was saying you needed it the other way today.

Crammed between a wall and your plush, leather seats, she ground her pseudo-penis against your leg, wearing a sick expression. "You love this. I can tell."

"Bugger off."

Her hand gripped your cock as tightly as she could without straight-up ripping it off. You turned your head away, internally cursing yourself out for being too damn kinky. (Sure, in your normal life, it wasn't a bad thing, but this robot was judging the shit out of you and you didn't take kindly to that.) Annoyingly, your body responded, legs twitching and even a bit of fluid dribbling out the head of your damn masochistic dick.

"If you ejaculate, I get to drive the submarine."

She rubbed the top of her head against your chest, almost in a loving way, before propping you against the wall and hoisting your legs over her shoulders. The room was so damn small your toes could reach the wall on the opposite end. The curve in the wall meant you were hunching uncomfortably inward against the rusted metal. "Lubricant?"

"In my wallet."

She grabbed it from your pocket, tearing open one of the little packets and slathering it across her mechanical genitals.

"Oh, how I wish I could feel sexual pleasure..." She sighed, almost wistfully. "But I think being this close to you is enough." Her fingers trembled, as she reached up. You receded as far back as you could against the wall, before she grabbed on.

The world went blurry.

You soon realized you couldn't breathe, because she was strangling you. Involuntarily, you let out a choked whine as she penetrated you for the first time in forever. "I finally know how your body works, so I can make it feel really good."

Her hands grabbed tighter, pressing from the sides of your trachea, pulling in and out. That there, that was the prostate, what she hit. A shudder buzzed up your spine, and then another, and another, as she pressed against it, your toes curling behind her synthetic hair. Not once did she function out of time, she didn't even falter. It was the most inhuman thing you'd ever seen, and she reamed you like an animal.

In and out.

In and out.

Your sense of time blurred as she pressed and released her fingers in time with the thrusts of her thick, metal hips. Just barely keeping you alive. You refused to look down at yourself, instead staring at the close-by ceiling. 

In a swift motion she slammed you down into your own driver's chair, going at jackhammer speeds as soon as she no longer had to worry about bearing your weight. She gripped your head with her thumbs, spreading the saliva from your lips, and if you listened closely, (or not so closely) you could hear yourself practically screeching in this teeny, tiny, shitpiece submarine.

Your body tensed.

Dear lord, you could feel it coming. 

"I'm gonna-"

"Don't hold back." She was looking at you behind the mat of dark hair over her eyes. "No-one has to know."

Your spine arched as you howled to the heavens in the most unattractive way, firing your load into the hair of your chest. As her hands grabbed back to your neck, the scream shorted out, before it was over as quick as it started. Your heart pounded, knees feeling weak. She withdrew.

"Was that so bad?"

"...'m takin' a nap."

"Alright, I'm driving."

You flopped out of your seat onto the floor, covered in sweat, puke and cum, which was not a good combination. She looked over. "I can let you out to clean off if you want me to. After all, we're surrounded by water."

"I'll wait on it."

"It'll dry."

"Don't care."

Feeling sick and tired, you rolled over onto your side, the remnants of your slight drunkenness still burning in your mind along with the cooldown of your pleasure high. Quietly, Cyborg Noodle grabbed hold of the controls, sending the submarine back into the watery depths and driving away with you.


End file.
